


Yes, Husband

by Janina



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dom!Jon, F/M, Jealousy, Romance, Smut, sub!Sansa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 13:06:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18591844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janina/pseuds/Janina
Summary: based on a prompt on Tumblr that asked for a Dom!Jon and Sub!Sansa.Jon is jealous when he sees Jaime make Sansa really laugh. He decides it's time to show her who she belongs to.





	Yes, Husband

Logically, Jon knew that Jaime Lannister was a taken man. Jamie and Brienne of Tarth were an odd sort of couple, but who was he to pass judgment? He was in love with Sansa who he’d once thought was his sister, albeit half, and now she was his cousin. 

But he’d fallen in love with her as his sister. 

So, if Brienne and Jaime made an odd couple to Jon, he kept his mouth shut. He hadn’t always liked Brienne much, but he did acknowledge that she protected Sansa well. And now Jaime did, too. 

Jaime Lannister had come far, and while Jon was still wary of him, everyone else had gotten over it. Even Arya. But then, she was busy with Gendry. 

But even knowing all this about Jaime and Brienne, he still didn’t like it much when Jaime was able to make Sansa laugh. Oh, he knew he was no great wit, not by any stretch. The last time he’d tried to make a joke everyone had just stared at him wondering what he was going on about. Then, later, they laughed at something he hadn’t meant to be a joke at all. 

Such was the way of things. 

He could tease Sansa and make her giggle. He could tickle her and make her laugh while begging him to stop, but the laugh she gave when Jaime said something was often a full belly laugh that stoked his jealousy. 

It was stupid. So stupid. And he could practically see Arya rolling her eyes at him, but Sansa was his wife, dammit, and he should be the one making her belly laugh like that. And not accidentally either! 

So, when he saw Jaime making her laugh after signing some petitions inside - Sansa had already approved them - he felt a wave of jealousy come over him. His jaw clenched. His body went rigid. 

Brienne was smiling and shaking her head, but not carrying on the way Sansa was. 

So, Jon stormed over to the group, braying like horses, and planted himself in front of Sansa. “Sansa,” he rasped. 

She smiled at him. Beamed really. _Take that, Lannister. That’s my smile. Mine._ “Jon! You’re done then?”

“I am. Are you busy?”

She shook her head. “Not at the moment, no. Jaime was just telling us a story about when--”

“Yes, that’s nice,” Jon said, cutting her off. She looked startled. “I’d like to speak with you,” he said. And then added firmly, in a tone he knew she would understand. “ _Alone_.”

She bit her lip. “Of course,” she said demurely and folded her hands before her. She looked at Jaime and Brienne who nodded. 

“See you perhaps tomorrow then?” Jaime asked with a smirk. “Sometime around luncheon?”

Jon shot him a glare and Brienne elbowed him while Jaime bent his head and laughed softly. 

Jon offered his arm to Sansa and she slipped her arm through his dutifully. 

He led her toward the castle and when they were out of earshot of Jaime and Brienne he said, “Do you know what I think I’d like to do today, Sansa?”

“No, your Grace, would you please tell me?” she said evenly. 

“I want to watch you fuck yourself with the ivory cock I got you.”

He heard her breath quicken and knew she was probably blushing. He didn’t look at her though. He made it look as though he and his wife were just headed inside, probably for a private meeting. What that meeting consisted of, perhaps some would guess or wonder, but they gave nothing away by sharing heated glances. 

“What else would please you, husband?” she asked. 

“I want you to suck my cock while you play with yourself. And then I want to take you like a wolf.”

“Yes, husband.”

“You’re such a good girl for me aren’t you, Sansa?”

“I try, husband.”

They strode now up the stairs to the Lord’s chambers. “You find Lannister witty?” he asked. 

She looked at him then, eyes wide. “Pardon, your Grace?”

He growled. “You heard me. He makes you laugh.”

Her mouth fell open. “Jon--”

“Pardon me?” 

She bit her lip. “Your Grace. Husband. You - you are not jealous, are you?”

They now came to a stop in front of the Lord’s Chambers. Jon pushed the door open while tugging Sansa inside. 

He shut the door and locked it and then turned to face her. “Tell me, Sansa, who do you belong to?”

“You, husband,” she said breathlessly. “I belong only to you.”

“I want you to show me your loyalty. Turn around,” he commanded. 

She did as he asked and he stepped up to her and roughly pulled apart the gray dress she wore. Buttons popped and though he knew Sansa would huff and puff at him about that later, she let it happen now without a word. 

Like a good girl. 

Like a good wife. 

Next came the rest of it - all of it - until she was bare before him except for her shoes. 

He pointed at her feet. “Take them off.”

Hurriedly, she did as he asked. Bare completely now, she stood before him with her cheeks pink and her eyes dark and bright. 

She wanted this. She always wanted this. But only from him. Only ever from him. 

He clenched and unclenched his hands at his sides, trying not to just grab her and toss her on the bed and take her. His wife drove him to distraction and the thing of it was, she never had to try. She just came by it naturally. 

“Undress me,” he said hoarsely, knowing this would be the true test of his ability to restrain himself. He lived for her little touches. 

She stepped up to him and looked up at him, her blue eyes meeting his gray. _I love you_ she seemed to be saying with that look. He nodded slowly in reply. _I love you, too._

She undressed him slowly, her hands brushing the skin of his chest, his arms, his stomach. He shivered; she didn’t call attention to it. She folded his clothes and hers on a bench nearby. She took her time; she drove him mad. He almost ordered her to stop and to get on the bed and assume the position, but he held himself back, knowing it would be better if he waited. 

Slowly though, he was burning up from the inside. His blood was up. As was his cock. 

When he was finally, blessedly, naked, she looked up at him from where she knelt on the floor and set his boots aside. He sucked in a breath. 

“Suck it,” he said roughly. 

She leaned forward and started to reach with her hands for his cock. 

“Your mouth only,” he commanded. 

She briefly looked up at him and then nodded once and leaned forward, suckling the head of his cock into her mouth. Jon shuddered, his eyes shutting. His hands immediately went to her red silken locks and he buried his hands in the mass of her it, completely ruining her Northron hairstyle. 

She took him down, but not too far, and then moved her head back slowly, swirled her tongue around his cock and then down again she went just a little further. She continued this process until she had him in her throat. 

Jon groaned and tugged gently on her hair. “Touch yourself.”

One hand went down to a breast and she pinched her rosy red nipple before sliding all the way down to her cunt. 

“You’re naughty,” he whispered. “Naughty and good...so fucking good.”

“Do I please you, husband?” she asked, taking her mouth off his cock. She was flushed all the way down to her breasts and he wanted her, Gods, he wanted her badly. 

“I didn’t tell you to talk,” he growled. “Get your mouth back on my cock.”

She did so without hesitation and he squeezed his eyes shut, giving himself up to the sensation of her hot mouth on his cock. When he heard her gag, he grunted. She gagged again and he pulled away lest he came in her mouth. There would be time for that later. 

“On the bed,” he said huskily. “On your back.”

She was up and on the bed in a flash. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as he went to the small chest on her vanity. She was rubbing her legs together in anticipation and Jon knew that when he asked her to spread her legs, she would be glistening. His mouth watered at the thought. 

He took out the ivory phallus and knew that he wasn’t going to be able to watch while she fucked herself with it. 

He came over to her and slid in beside her on the bed on his side. She held out her hand for the phallus and he shook his head. “I’ve changed my mind,” he said. “I want to fuck you with it.”

She nodded eagerly and he dropped the phallus on the bed between them and turned her face toward him with one hand and kissed her hungrily. “You want me to fuck you with it, don’t you?” Now he was the one breathless. 

“Yes, husband.”

“Why?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Because you fuck me so well, husband.”

“And no one will ever fuck you so well, will they?” he growled. 

“Never,” she practically panted. “Husband, I belong to you and only you.”

“Yes, you do,” he muttered and picked the phallus up. He held it up to her mouth. “Get it wet.”

Obediently, she took it from him and sucked on it as though it was his cock. Jon watched her heatedly, feeling that he might perish right there in the bed. He’d never wanted anything or anyone more than he wanted Sansa in that moment. From the moment she’d barrelled back into his life he had wanted her with a passion he’d never felt so intensely. It scared him sometimes. 

But Gods, he wouldn’t give it up. Not ever. 

When the phallus was nearly dripping and slick with her salivia, Jon took it from her. “Spread your legs,” he husked. 

She did so and he teased her with the tip of it against her pleasure button. She bit her lip and shifted on her elbows. 

“Yes? Do you like that?” he asked in her ear. 

“Yes, husband,” she whispered. 

“Spread your legs wider.”

When she did, he put the phallus in the other hand and slid his free one down between her legs. “You’re soaking wet,” he groaned and licked his fingers. She watched him heatedly. He then grabbed the phallus back in his other hand and pushed it inside her slowly. 

“Jon,” she moaned. “Husband….”

“Wife,” he growled and proceeded to work it in and out of her, getting it in deeper with each glide back inside. 

She leaned into him, burrowing her head in shoulder, and whimpered. 

“Don’t peak,” he told her. 

She gasped. 

“Problem, sweet girl?” he asked, daring her to question him. 

“No,” she gasped. 

She was close, he could tell, and he wanted to bring her there just before he got inside her, but he was losing the battle to hold on. He wanted her wet heat; he wanted that final connection to his wife so bad he could barely stand it. 

Using the tip of the phallus, he teased her nub and when she slammed her legs shut, panting, and looking at him pleadingly, he knew it was time. 

He tossed the phallus somewhere behind him and got to his knees. “On your knees,” he said, his voice gravelly, sounding almost inhuman to his ears. 

She scrambled to her knees, showing him her pert ass, and her dripping folds. “Gods,” he breathed as he lined up his cock at her entrance. He waited a beat, savoring the anticipation for just a moment longer. 

Then he slammed inside her and she screamed, spasming around his cock, squeezing him to the point that he thought he might just peak….

He gripped her hips hard and she began to move herself on his cock. Bloody hell, but she knew just what to do to make him mad for her. He reached forward and wrapped her hair around his fist and pulled her head back gently as he began to fuck her. 

“Don’t you ever forget that you’re mine, wife,” he growled. “My wife. My Queen. My Sansa.”

“Yes,” she moaned. “Yours, Jon. My King. My husband.”

“Fuck me back.”

She did and when he was close, he let go of her hair and hunched over her, found her nub and circled it with his thumb as he fucked her. 

“Jon,” she whined. “Oh, Gods, Jon…”

“Peak, Sansa, now!” he ordered. She was...almost… _there_. “Peak!” he shouted. 

She screamed again, clamping down on his cock and he roared as he let go, gripping her hips hard again. 

Her knees gave out and down she went, Jon following. He breathed hard and heavy against her neck until she shifted, signaling to him that he was too heavy. He pulled out of her with a wince and rolled onto his back, dragging her along with him. 

She turned and maneuvered herself into his arms and they held each other, sweaty and slick. “Were you truly jealous of--”

“Don’t say his name while you’re in bed with me,” Jon admonished. 

She looked up at him. “You’ve no reason to be,” she said softly and ran a hand through his now damp curls. 

“He made you laugh. Really laugh,” Jon said softly. “I want to make you laugh.”

“You do,” she said. “You make me laugh all the time.”

“With the stupid things I do.”

She pulled on his hair lightly. “No. And stop saying things like that.”

He smirked. “You going to take control now?” he asked. 

She arched a brow. “Maybe,” she said and pushed him back to the bed as she straddled him. “What would you think if I did?”

He groaned. “I think I’d love it.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Truly?”

He nodded. “Truly.” He lifted his head. “Kiss me, wife.”

She smiled and leaned down. She kissed him until they were panting.

“Jon,” she murmured.

He looked at her in question. 

“I love you,” she said solemnly, leaving no doubt in his mind the sincerity of her words. 

Moved by the love her saw in her eyes, he lifted his head and kissed her. “I love you, Sansa. So much.” Then he winced. 

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“The ivory cock,” he said. “It’s digging into my back--”

Sansa burst into laughter, that same deep belly laugh he’d heard her give Jaime earlier, and even though he was pretty sure this was an instance of her laughing at him and not with him, he joined in anyway.


End file.
